Wonderful Lives
by Slocut
Summary: Tracking down cursed objects, Dean finds a treasure from his childhood.
1. Chapter 1

NOW

White. Stark glowing white. He looked around the room and tried to stand, but couldn't make his legs unfold, couldn't let go of the death grip he had on the arms of the pristine cane chair he found himself in. The room was illuminated with harsh unnatural intensity, but there were no light fixtures. Bare walls, bare ceiling, no other furniture or windows, as if he was in a 12x12 box.

Anxiety crept in quickly. He couldn't quite place his name, but he knew himself. He knew he didn't belong here, that people would miss him. Someone. He couldn't recall the faces.

He paused and looked around as he felt unseen eyes on him. Scanning the room there was nothing, but he knew with a surety that he was not alone.

He made a valiant attempt to stand. There was no plan for what to do if he could get up, but he wanted to get out of this place. No luck.

"Hello?" he yelled. Nothing. He waited.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o

2 HOURS BEFORE

Sam refused to acknowledge the holiday. For years he had a wish list in his mind for what the perfect Christmas season would be. He didn't even remember it any more. For one brief instant he had thought he would have his first real "normal" holiday. He had been in love. That was over. Nothing lasted, that was just the way life played out. At least his life. As the day itself approached, he felt the sting of that brief instant of longing. He should have known. No, he had known and he had let himself hope anyway.

They had driven into the quaint Rhode Island town earlier in the week. The place was so rural that there was only one option for a motel. It wasn't bad really. Clean enough with cable and internet access. He had slept in far worse. They were working a case centered around a string of antique shops. Cursed objects was their first thought.

Castiel had popped in to help them. He didn't understand the appeal some humans found in antiques. Sam figured when you were thousands of years old, a two hundred year old clock was less than impressive. For a celestial being he was surprisingly clumsy in enclosed spaces so antique shops were an absolute nightmare. He also had the tendency of touching and examining everything. It got old very fast.

One of the shops, No Place Like Home, had a psychic reader on Wednesday evenings. It was a good place to start. The three had headed in to look for anything that would raise a red flag indicating it was the place harboring the curse.

It was tight and cluttered, but wonderful in its own way. Sam had wandered to the back of the main room and picked up a beautiful amber hairpin. His mind drifted for just a minute and he imagined himself coiling up the long dark hair he dreamed about before fastening it with that pin.

He was jarred out of his thought when Castiel backed into a display and a box of rhinestone jewelry exploded across the floor. The sound felt like a gunshot.

He was done.

He excused himself and headed back to the motel leaving Dean to help clean up the mess while he reassembled himself. Holidays. What a pain in the ass.

He turned on the shower and wandered to the window as the water warmed up. He could see the glow of the Christmas lights hung along the street reflecting in the thin layer of frozen snow. He closed the shade.

Sam startled again as the door of their room slammed open against the wall. Castiel barged in, frenzied and disheveled. "Is he here?" he blurted out.

O0o0oo0o0o

Dean apologized for his friend, squatting down gather the scattered jewelry. Castiel promptly backed into another display. HE quickly turned to steady the teetering mass of collectables, averting another mini disaster. The owner smiled at Castiel reassuringly and began to help Dean pick up the mess.

The bell at the door jangled, admitting two more shoppers into the cramped space.

"Ive got this." Dean said at his most charming.

"Thanks so much, just throw it on the counter and I will set it all straight again." She said before standing and greeting the newcomers.

Grabbing the last few earrings from under a metal stand, a familiar sight caught his eye. A ceramic angel sat on top of a box slid under a display. He felt a grip in his chest as he reached for it. For the first four years of his life he saw that angel's face over his bed. It felt cold in his hands as he stood. For just a second he heard his mother's voice in his head ..."angels are watching over you"...

He need that statue. He had no place to put it. He needed it.

Putting the box of jewelry on the counter he looked around for Castiel. He spied his friend awkwardly questioning the alleged psychic who was about to commence her readings. She looked at him with a kind sympathetic look on her face as he continued to ramble.

He saw her sit Castiel down at a small table and begin to pull the Tarot cards in a line. Her look quickly turned to puzzlement and then shock before she looked up at the angel in alarm.

Dean picked up the angel and rifled for his wallet, he felt compelled to own it. To wrap it up and hide it in his bag as a personal memento of his mother. He motioned the owner over to him and placed it on the counter between them. She picked it up and looked at it, turned it over before looking up at Dean.

"Where did you find this, it doesn't look familiar." She asked.

"At the top of the box under that table...I saw it picking up the mess. It is for sale right?"

"Well yes, everything is for sale, its just odd, I do all the acquisitions myself. But I guess that doesn't matter. Shall we say... five dollars?" she said

Dean pulled out the cash and payed for his angel. He looked over his shoulder and saw Castiel rambling at the psychic, oblivious to the anxiety it was causing the poor woman. The taro cards were gripped in her white knuckled hands, and Dean was quite sure she was scanning the room for the nearest exit.

Looking back at his purchase, he became lost in thought. "Mom," He said, "I wish..."

White exploded behind Dean's eyes as he felt himself drop away.


	2. Chapter 2

" You LOST him?" Sam yelled. "What do you mean disappeared? Did he walk out? I Don't understand Cas."

"I was attempting to question the psychic, she is an empath really, I am not sure that she knows the difference. Her powers are more intuitive..."

"CAS!" Sam shouted. "Dean? Where is Dean?"

"I don't know. I questioned the staff and patrons. It was strange, all the women in the shop remembered seeing Dean, none of the men. No one saw him leave."

Of course all the women had seen Dean, Sam thought, he was Dean. Sam pulled out his cell and dialed his brother's number. There was always a chance that Dean had wandered off with a pretty blonde. It had been known to happen. Voicemail. Damn.

"What is the last thing you remember?" Sam asked, watching Cas pace the room.

"Dean appeared to be making a purchase at the register."

"What would Dean be buying at a place like that? He isn't much for knick knacks and trinkets." Sam replied. "What was he buying?"

"I don't know, I didn't feel it was of import...in hindsight perhaps I should have..."

"Cursed objects Cas, How much do you want to bet that is what he bought?" Sam mumbled.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o

He scanned the room and struggled against his chair again. How long was he supposed to just sit there.

The air swirled before him and a lovely blonde woman appeared in front of him. He knew her, he was quite sure. All his fear and anxiety melted away.

"What did you wish for Dean?" The woman said laying her hand against his cheek.

Memories flowed back into his mind. "Mom?" Whats going on? He said confused.

He realized that what he was seeing could not possibly be his mother. Anger welled up in him. How he hated it when some unholy bastard used his mother's memory to torment him. Was nothing sacred?

"I don't know who or what you are, but you are NOT my mother. What the hell do you want?" he said struggling in earnest.

"You made a wish Dean, and I am here." She responded kindly.

"All I said was...that I wish things could have been different. That isn't a wish, it is a fact. Now let me go." Dean said angrily.

"Different. So if you could change the path you are on, you would? There was one path destined for you from before you were born. You feel regret, remorse for everything that happened to me, to your father and your friends. I am here to give you a choice Dean. You can change your path. Let me show you what could have been and then you can choose."

"No I..." Dean said as he materialized outside a burning house.

He carried a baby, it was so heavy. He looked down and saw Sam. He knew his Dad would come running down the front steps to scoop them up so he paused, but he didn't come. He waited as long as he could before he sprinted toward the street and a massive explosion erupted behind him. He cowered with the baby tucked under the bumper of the Impala.

"Dad?" He yelled.

He watched the house burn as the baby cried. A fireman scooped them up and sat them in an ambulance. Dean looked up as a thin woman in a dark suit reached for Sammy. He wasn't going to let him go. It was his job to protect him.

Dean screamed and fought as the woman pried the baby from his arms and whisked him away in a nondescript sedan. A kind older man lifted Dean and carried him to a station wagon and strapped him in the back. The man explained that he was taking him somewhere safe to be looked after. He wouldn't discuss where his brother was, but assured him the boy was safe.

The years flew by in his mind in minutes. He saw himself in a juvenile center, adopted out to a blue collar couple. They raised him the best they could but he continued to be obsessed with his brother. His parents told him when he was thirteen that his brother died many years ago. It was a blow, but he knew it was a lie. He would find Sam. He never forgave them for that lie. It had been told for their benefit, not for his.

He grew up more in than out of trouble. At nineteen he found the first hint of a trail. He drove for two days and stood outside a high school in Maryland hoping to catch any sight of him as he exited. One sad skinny boy wandered out and climbed into the bus heading to the broken down street where he lived. Dean watched him exit the bus. His temper flared as the boy was shoved around before he tripped and fell.

"HEY!" Dean said advancing on the group. The bullies scattered, as they often do when confronted.

Dean offered a hands up to the boy, scanning his face. When his hand grasped the boys he knew it was Sammy. "You ok?"

"Yah, thanks." The boy replied quietly.

"I'm Dean. I know this might sound a little crazy, but I think I have been looking for you." he said nervously.

"Why?" the boy responded warily, getting ready to bolt.

" I am pretty sure you are my brother. You are adopted, right?" Dean replied.

"Yah, but I dont have any brothers. My whole family was killed in a fire. I think you made a mistake." He said turning away.

"No, they told me you were dead too, but I knew you weren't. I have been looking for you my whole life Sammy!" Dean said kindly/

"My name is David. I have two little sisters. You may have been my brother once, but now you are a stranger. I'm sorry you spent all this time looking for me. It was nice meeting you Dean." he said turning away.

He stayed in town for weeks. Sam's parents were less than no help. He was turned away over and over again until he was served with a restraining order barring him from further contact with the family. It couldn't end like this...but it had.

He saw himself watching the news years later. There was a report of multiple murders at a abandoned ghost town. Sam's name and picture flashed across the screen and he stopped breathing.

Dean felt his world fracture into pieces before he found himself back in the white room in the white chair.

"No.. No way." Dean hissed out between his teeth. He would go through hell again before letting that be reality.

He looked up at his mother's face. She still held the kind smile.

"If I offered you that life, would trade the one you have lived?" she asked.

"NO damn it. Let me go." he yelled.

"Well then. Lets try again." she said.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean held Sam in his arms, he was on his knees in the mud. His brother's head lolled back and he pulled it to his shoulder. He looked at his hand and saw his brother's blood leaking through his fingers. He felt his heart constrict...he knew that his brother was dying. He had done this before ...or had he, he remembered the pain. No, he wouldn't do this again. He yelled Sams name and it echoed between the buildings. He felt his brothers last breath exhaled against his neck.

He knelt there until Bobby came. They drove Sam's body to an abandoned house and laid it out. He was bloodless and gray, he was cold as ice.

Dean cried, he paced he begged and pleaded. This couldn't happen. This was his fault. He could make it right, he would.

He drove to a crossroad and buried the castings of a spell in the center of the crossing. The demon appeared. She bargained hard...and Dean agreed. Almost. At the last second he changed his mind and banished the demon to hell. Sam was gone but he couldn't repeat his father's mistake.

He returned to his brother's body and built a pyre in the side yard with Bobby. He cried as his brother burned. He knew if he was lucky his life would end with a hunter's funeral. He just hoped no one would cry over him.

He hit the road alone. Hunted alone. He grieved deeply until nothing hurt, nothing at all.

He never went to hell, hell came to him.

A knock sounded at the door of his seedy motel outside Greenville SC. He pulled his glock and peered out the window and spied Bobby singer leaning against the door frame. How had Bobby found him? He hadn't spoken to him in near to a year.

He shoved the gun into his belt behind his back and swung open the door. Sam stood there staring at him.

Dean took two steps back and looked at Bobby. Sam advanced into the door and held his palms up, showing he had no weapons.

Dean fluidly pulled the glock and aimed it at the face of the monster inside his brother's body.

Sam grabbed his wrist and pushed him back against the wall. The gun shot off three rounds into the ceiling as they struggled.

"Stop Dean, Its really him!"

Dean looked into his brothers eyes, It was him. It was Sammy.

He dropped the gun and lifted his brother against him in a bear hug. He didn't want to let go, but he had to know how.

"How Sammy? How did you get back? We burned your body! This isn't possible!" Dean said

"Its a long story, maybe you should sit down." Sam passed them each a beer as they sat and stared at him.

"Let me start by saying I am sorry Dean, I am so sorry." Sam said pacing nervously. "I went to hell. I spent this whole year on the wrack. The things they do to you, you can't imagine. They were very angry."

"Angry?" Dean replied confused.

"Apparently this wasn't the plan. I was not supposed to die when I did. Apparently they expected you in hell." He explained.

"They wanted something from me. Wanted me to agree to something." Sam said pausing behind Bobby.

"What?" Dean asked.

"They wanted me to be a vessel, Lucifer's vessel when he rises to burn down the planet. When the Apocalypse comes. I said no every time." Sam said quietly.

"Thats crazy!" Bobby spat out.

"I know." Sam said

"So how did you get out? I don't understand." Dean asked.

"I changed his mind." Sam said in another voice before reaching forward to cleanly snap Bobbys neck.

"NOOOOOO" Dean yelled jumping from the chair as Bobby fell limply to the floor.

In two steps Lucifer was on Dean. He reached back and shoved his hand between Dean's ribs ripping out his heart.

Dean looked down astounded and saw his heart in Sam's hand. Lucifer caught Dean as he fell and kissed him on the temple before letting him drop to the ground.

Dean felt the white light surround him as he was sucked back into the white room. His chest hurt. When he looked down he could see blood stains on his shirt. This was all too real.

"Enough!" He yelled.

His mother came forward and knelt next to him. She wiped the tears off his face he didn't know he had shed.

"Was that your path Dean?" She asked in a whisper.

"Enough, no, you made your point." He said, exhausted.

"No Dean, you need to find your way." She said as he was dragged into another void.


	4. Chapter 4

Sam walked away. Their father said good riddance. Dean hurt deeper than he had ever hurt. Sam had left them. Stanford, big deal. Well it was a big deal, but his brother had left Dad and worse his brother had left him.

They had both been assholes. They said things that couldn't be taken back and now it was done.

He couldn't take care of himself. He would have a target on his back for every dark thing in the night.

When it got dark he slipped out. He got into the Impala and headed out after Sam. He would have his back. Dad would never forgive him, but this was right. Sam had to come first.

He picked him up hitch hiking on the interstate. For a long time neither said a word. Both were still angry, and both were relieved.

They drove to Stanford only stopping for gas. They traded off driving and sleeping, but the ride was silent. Dean had so much to say, but he just couldn't. He felt the loss of his brother before he even drove into the campus gates. Sam arrived with almost nothing. He had a backpack with his clothes, a demiscythe and a 9mm semiautomatic with two spare loaded clips tucked into a spare pare of boots.

Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. Two weeks of cheating at pool had netted him over a grand. He handed it to Sam who made a brief show of refusing it before thanking his brother and getting out of the car to walk away. He didn't look back. Dean watched him walk away until he was out of sight. He swallowed the lump in his throat before finding the first motel in the yellow pages and signing in as James Rockford. Just in case Sam changed his mind he could find him.

He was just going to wait for a few days. He called his Dad to explain but he didn't answer. He waited for his brother to call but he didn't. After a week he snuck onto campus just to assure himself Sam was ok. He saw his brother carrying a heavy duffel walking with an assortment of teenagers. He fit in. He wasn't a hunter, he was just a kid. A normal college kid.

It was what Sam always wanted. Dean packed his stuff up to leave but just couldn't do it. He tried his Dad again, no answer.

Dean stepped out of his comfort zone and took a job as a mechanic. Just to stay close, in case of emergency. It was just going to be for a few weeks. Weeks turned to a month then six. He met a girl named Andrea. She was everything Dean wanted. Pretty, smart, outgoing, too good to be true. Still he could not reach his Dad. He called every day, some times twice.

He realized a month later that he was content, maybe even happy. He thought he may be falling in love. He was making friends. He hadn't killed anything since August. He was just a guy with a job and a girl and a life. He realized he wanted it. He was going to stay.

One March morning the number turned up disconnected.

Dean went to speak to Sam on campus. It was the first time they had spoken in person. Sam refused to leave campus and Dean was reluctant to leave Andrea, but he had to find his Dad.

As Dean was packing up his stuff a knock sounded at his door. He opened it and in stepped Pastor Jim and his father's friend Caleb.

"We have been looking for you for months Dean. You are a hard man to find." The minister said closing the door behind him.

"What, whats wrong?" He said, already knowing the answer.

"I'm sorry Dean, I hate to have to tell you this..." Caleb started in.

"THEN DON'T!" Dean shouted pacing away, looking for a place to hide from the news he knew was coming.

"Dean, you have to listen. Its your father, he's gone. It happened months ago. We have been trying to find you. I'm so so sorry," Pastor Jim said putting a hand on Dean's shoulder.

"How, how did it happen? What got to him?" Dean said through clenched teeth.

"Best we can tell, a demon came up on him unawares...There was a couple whiskey bottles empty around, didn't seem as he put up much of a fight. He had gotten deep into the drink over the last year. Nobody could tell him nothin. You know how your Dad was, stubborn. Didn't want no advice didn't want no help." Caleb said kindly. "We gave him a hunters funeral." Caleb said, handing Dean his Dad's journal.

"I should have been there." Dean said quietly.

Dean called his brother and asked him to come to the motel. When he reluctantly arrived and saw Caleb and the pastor he felt the panic overtake him.

"What." Sam said. "Whats wrong."

"Its Dad Sammy, hes gone." Dean said, filling in the missing details.

"How could you let this happen? I left you there to take care of him! Where were you? How could this happen?" Sam ranted.

"I was here Sammy, I never left, I was watching out for you." Dean said, confused.

"I wasn't the one who needed you Dean, couldn't you see that? This is YOUR fault." Say yelled.

Hours later Dean sat alone in the motel room. It was dark and silent. He had sent Andrea away, ended it. He didn't have a right to it anyway. He put down his bottle of Jack after tipping the last shot down his throat. He held his 9mm on his lap. It was a gift from his Dad. His Dad. He was gone, gone forever. Sam would never forgive him. He would never forgive himself.

He was overwhelmed with grief and regret. He put the keys to the Impala in an envelope with Sam's name on it and left it on the dresser. Resting the gun on the sink he took off his clothes and got into the shower, It was as hot as he could stand it. The tears fell as he reached out to grab the gun, which he smoothly put below his chin and pulled the trigger.

The gun made no sound, a white light encircled him and pulled him back into the white room.

Dean sat in the chair unable to catch his breath.

"That didn't happen. It didn't happen that way." Dean said.

In the back of his mind Dean realized that he had wondered for years what would have happened if he had left the life with Sammy. He had regretted his decision for years. Now he knew how it would have unfolded. He felt sick at the thought.

He looked up at the apparition of his mother and realized the game that it was playing. He took a deep breath and asked, resolved. "So whats next?"


	5. Chapter 5

Dean watched the reaper float just above his body as the medical team sent a jolt of electricity through his chest for a third time. He walked by his brother who was holding onto the door jam witnessing the whole scene with horror.

The jolt arched his inert body off the hospital bed for just a split second before it fell limply back to the bed.

Dean remembered it all, the yellow eyed demon possessing his father, the pain of having his insides pulled apart as the bastard smiled at him with his fathers face. He could hear the echo of his brother pleading for him to live. The shot sounded as his father buckled to the floor. Sam carried them both to the impala and they headed to the hospital.

The crash.

There had been no pain. Then at the hospital, he woke outside his body... it made no sense. It had made none the first time. Now he knew. This had been one of his biggest regrets. His Dad died in his place in this hospital. Sent himself to hell.

Dean made eye contact with the reaper and waited. He would go with it. It was alright. He turned to his brother for just a moment. He was so young.

"I'm sorry." Dean said to him as he let himself be pulled from his body into the reaper.

.

Warm light and a soft breeze surrounded him. He sat on the end of a dock with a fishing pole. He reveled in it for just a few minutes. Oh God it was good. No stress, no hunger or fear. Peace for just a moment. He looked down and grabbed the slice of cherry pie sitting on top of the beer cooler just to his left. He scarfed it down relishing every bite. It was heaven...wait. It was heaven. Go figure.

He stood and tried to bring his brother into focus. He grabbed a tiny fragment of the memory of him at the edge of his mind and pulled at it hard.

He could see them. His Dad and his brother standing over a fire. It was a hunters funeral. His. His brother dropped to his knees and bawled like a two year old. Dean approached the scene and knelt in front of Sam. He tried to comfort him.

"Its OK Sam, this was how it was supposed to be." Dean said as his hand passed through his brothers shoulder.

His father placed a comforting hand on the back of Sam's head and he shook it off. Dean looked at his father's tear stained face and saw the devastation.

The body burned, the men cried. Maybe this was the solution. Maybe this was how it was supposed to be all along.

He caught movement behind his Dad's left shoulder and jumped to his feet as he saw the yellow eyed demon advance on his unsuspecting family.

"Dad! Behind you!...SAM! Sam LOOK! It is right there!" Dean threw himself at the demon and passed through it before hitting the ground hard. He saw a score of demons along the tree line. He knew what was coming before it even started.

The demon strolled casually behind John and snapped his neck. It was so quick, so uneventful. His Dad was taken totally unaware and didn't even have a chance to fight. He watched him drop to the ground in a heap.

Sam saw his father drop and inhaled sharply as the demon lay hands on his shoulders. There was just time enough to see the look of shocked horror on his brother's face before they vanished, leaving Dean in the field with his fathers body and his own burning corpse.

"SAM!" Dean yelled. He waited. He didn't vanish back to the white room. He could not feel a piece of his brother to cling to. He waited...paced. Oh God what had he done? This was not right.

"Dean?" he heard from behind him.

"Dad? Oh my God DAD!" Dean said to the image of his father.

"They got him Dean, they took your brother." John said sadly.

"Its OK Dad...We will..."

"No Dean. The deal never should have been made between your mother and Azazel. She brought me back. I should have stayed dead. Now you are gone, your brother is taken. She should have let me go. You never should have been born just to die. She should have let me go boy." John said

"Dad why are you here?" Dean said with sudden worry.

"I can't go boy, I am not done here. I have to set this right!"

"You didn't go with your reaper did you? Oh GOD Dad! Do you know what this means? I have seen what you will turn into! Damn it Dad what have you done?" Dean said as he felt himself sucked from the scene. He tried to hold onto it for just a moment but he let go as he realized he had already decided. This was not the path. No matter what he had chosen his father would have died that day.

He felt himself form again in the cane chair. He felt tight and sick. It wasn't true. His Dad was not a vengeful spirit, his brother was in RI in a motel with Cas, it was alright.

He looked up at the specter of his mother. He felt dread wash over him in anticipation of his next little trip. He wanted it done, now.

"Next." he said flatly before he felt himself whooshed away again.


	6. Chapter 6

They had run. Sam had been hurt for the last time. He had watched his Dad stitch the boy up for the second time in a week. He was just fourteen for Christ's sake!

Dean was old enough to choose to be a hunter. The choice was made way before that time anyway, but Sam was different. He didn't remember their Mom. He didn't have the anger and the pain from her loss to pull him through.

His Dad didn't care. He was passed out on the couch drunk, as usual, not noticing that Sam was curled in a ball on the filthy motel comforter. He had a fever. He needed a real doctor and he was going to get one.

The impala glided into Doc Monroe's driveway. It was after midnight but Dean didn't care. He helped his brother onto the porch and banged on the door with a closed fist. He didn't stop pounding until the disheveled old man threw the door open. Dean barged past with his brothers arm flung over his shoulder.

No more than a few words were said. The doc had been dealing with hunters for years.

"Your Dad?" he said

"Passed out." Dean replied

"This his handy work?" The old man inquired.

"Yah." Dean mumbled, watching Sam writhe under the mans ministrations.

The old man cleaned the new wound as well as the old. Restitched his brothers arm and gave the boy a shot of penicillin.

"You OK?" He said giving Dean a quick glance.

"Yah. Can you give him something for the pain? Maybe something to knock him out for the night?" Dean asked.

The old man packed up a few bottles for them. An antibiotic and some pain meds, then a bottle of mild sedatives.

"Keep those spots clean, If the fever comes back or if it leaks yellow come to me or go to the hospital."

"Thanks." Dean answered. He lifted his brother like a baby and carried him to the car.

Sam slid easily into the back seat never waking. Dean took off his leather jacket and threw it over his brother before getting into the car to drive.

They were gone, it felt good. Screw his Dad, screw the ghosts and the demons...he was done. They were done. He felt the weight of the world lifting off his shoulders. Sam was safe. Right this minute he was safe. Thank God.

O00oo0o0o0oo

Dean drove for hours. They pulled off the road into the yard of an abandoned house. Dean jimmied the door to let himself in. The place was a mess but he didnt care. He just wished the sun would come up so he could see what he was doing.

He partially reassembled a bed frame and flipped the mattress over. He threw some pilfered sheets from the last motel they were in on it and retrieved his brother. Sam walked in on his own but collapsed gratefully onto the clean sheets falling back to sleep. Dean checked the house for any sign of danger before taking off to get supplies. They would need to get through a few days before he decided their next move.

With less than a hundred bucks the supplies were limited. He silently thanked a higher power for dollar stores. They would eat fine for a few days and have candles and soap. It would all be alright.

"Where is Dad Dean?" Sam asked.

"Take the pills." Dean said sternly

"Ok, but where is he?" Sam repeated.

"It doesn't matter. We worry about us now. Dad is doing what he needs to do and I am doing what WE need to do."

Sam stared at his brother. He took the antibiotic and the pain pill gratefully. Something was up. He drank a bottle of dollar store orange juice and ate a bag of hot-fries considering the situation. They had run away. He was shocked. He had dreamed of running away, often, but Dean was all about the hunt. What had happened? He was afraid to hope. Could they just run? Find a place where he could go to school and make friends and be normal? Well, pretend to be normal. That was enough.

"So where are we?" Sam asked.

"Just outside Chicago." Dean answered vaguely.

"Do we have a plan?" Sam asked cautiously.

"We will." Dean replied as he straightened out their temporary home before working on getting the water running. It wouldn't be hot water but they would take what they could get.

A million things were running through Deans mind. He could find work, he could join the marines, they could just road trip across the states. The world opened up and he had no clue what to do with it. He finally sat next to Sam on the bed and asked the boy.

"What do you want to do Sam?"

"I just want to be normal. Could we just try to be normal?" Sam said hopefully.

And they were.

Dean scammed their way across five states hoarding cash the entire way. They reached Utah with a tidy six thousand dollar nest egg. Dean rented a sad two bedroom apartment in an iffy area. To Sam it was heaven. They assumed the names Sam and Dean Keller. Their Dad and mom were killed in an auto accident and Dean had custody.

They picked up roadkill furniture and salvation army necessities. They got a real television and had heat and electricity. They even had cable.

Dean was silently proud when he got his first ever land line phone. It was something he had never had. It spoke of permanence. It was a home base. He had something that was attached to a dwelling...a home. Their home.

He got a job. He payed bills. Sam pulled straight As and their Dad never came looking, or at least never found them.

Dean met a nice girl. He fell hard. Sam got into Stanford with an academic and athletic scholarship. Sam knew Dean planned to drop to a knee and ask his girl to marry him. He teased him unmercifully. The great Dean Winchester was a wreck. Sam prayed she would say yes, because he didn't like the though of Dean being alone.

Sam came home the end of his freshman year to be his brothers best man. He came to visit at the end of his junior year to act as godfather to Deans twin daughters.

Dean went to visit Sam and Jessica right before Sams graduation.

That was when it all started.

The fire. Jessica on the ceiling. Dean knew in his heart that it was over. This whole path hadn't been real. The years had flown by...but he was married, he had kids. That was real...wasn't it? Oh God. What was going on.

Everything had changed... but the end was the same. He expected Castiel. He came. The Apocalypse would still come, Michael still wanted him as a vessel and Lucifer wanted Sam. It was all window dressing.

The only change was that all the people they had saved were dead. That and they had become weak. Years without hunting made them ill prepared to deal with the celestials as well as the demons. They had no position to fight from.

The first casualty was Jessica, and then Dean's family. The Demons or maybe the Angels needed them gone. So they were. It was devastating. The pain was something he had never dealt with. It made him understand his Dad. He understood the decisions that his father had made in grief.

Sam caved into Lucifer amazingly easily. Dean gave in after a night on a bender. Michael or maybe Cas had said something that must have made sense at the time. It was a moot point any way. His life was over when he lost his family. They met at the field and silently watched two superpowers use their bodies to end the world.

Michael devastated Lucifer, and of course Sam. Half the continent was leveled. Dean didn't want his body back, but got it any way. With it came the pain of loss, and the certainty that it could have been different.

He called for the white room and was there in a flash. He felt like a quivering mass of nerves. He could barely sit in the chair without melting to the floor.

"Sam is alive?" He asked

"Yes of course." His mother replied.

"No more." Dean whispered.

"One more," his mother said leaning forward to kiss him on the forehead.

The world flashed white and Dean felt himself be pulled away.

This time would be different. This time he would not participate. No more.


	7. Chapter 7

The air in the room was cold, the bed was warm...so was the arm wrapped around him. He turned over and looked at the beautiful woman wrapped around him. He snuck a peek under the covers and a smile blossomed across his face.

"Like what you see?" The woman asked.

"Actually...yes, yes I do." Dean said.

The woman rolled on top of him and he looked into her sky blue eyes. He grabbed two hands full of her black hair and he kissed her. He loved this woman. Oh my God, who was she? He knew that this was the woman he would be with for the rest of his natural life...maybe beyond. He waited to fall into the vision more deeply to know everything about her. He would find her in his real life, he would make sure of it.

The door to their room smashed against the wall and Sam barged in. Dean pulled the woman behind him and leaned over to block his brothers view. How dare he just...look at her.

"GET OUT." Dean said angrily.

Sam rolled his eyes and tossed his backpack onto the table. He threw a Dunkin Donuts bag at the bed where it hit Dean in the chest before bouncing onto the floor.

"Nice catch Dean, now your muffins are crushed." Sam said, sitting in the only chair in the room, resting his heels on Deans bed.

The woman peeked around Dean making eye contact with Sam.

"Morning Cas." Sam said.

Dean scanned the room for Castiel. Was this a joke? What was this a freaking free show?

"Cas?" Dean yelled.

"You don't need to shout Dean, I am right here." The woman behind him replied, reaching around his chest.

Dean was out of the bed like a rocket. No. No no no no no.

He pulled the comforter across his waist. "Castiel?" he croaked out.

The woman cocked her head just a tad to the left and looked at Dean...then he knew. Oh LORD. This was so wrong in so many ways.

"You OK Dean?" Sam said concerned.

"NO!" Dean said heading toward the bathroom. The door slammed and locked. He wasn't coming out. Not ever.

White room...he thought. "white room!" he whispered. "WHITE ROOM DAMNIT WHITE ROOM!" he yelled in a panic.

With a whoosh the woman from his bed materialized next to him..

"Actually Dean, the room is green." She said flatly.

O0o0o00o0o0o

Dean Sam and Cas sat at a table in a dark coffee shop. Sam was trying whole heartedly not to laugh. He was failing.

"Let me get this straight. Castiel is a dude in some freaky alternate universe...is that what you are trying to tell me?" Sam said before being overtaken by a fit of laughter.

"Actually Sam, as you know, Angels are gender neutral. I only have a gender when in a vessel." Castiel said. She was hurt, and it was clear to Dean that it was his fault. He didn't care.

"Who are you in Cas. Why aren't you in Jimmy?" Dean demanded.

"Jimmy said no. He was my first choice but when he refused I had to move on, time was of the essence. I occupy his half sister Corinne. I can see this distresses you Dean, but I can not possess Jimmy without his permission. I have never used him as a vessel. I can assure you I have never had occasion to occupy a male vessel." she said.

"So this thing is all related to the cursed objects?" Sam said, trying to control himself.

Dean rubbed his hands over his face to press out the crushing head ache overwhelming him.

"Apparently." Dean croaked out before pressing his palms into his eyes. Maybe he could make this all go away. Now.

"From what I can tell we are on the same hunt. This is the same town, same motel. The same stores..."

"Different vessels." Sam spat out. Cas and Dean scowled at him. "Sorry."

"I would like my Dean back." Castiel interupted. "I see no reason to believe that this is an alternate time line. We must consider that the our Dean has found himself in a similar situation and is attempting to return to me...us."

"It is that place. It all started when I bought that angel." Dean stated, ignoring the pouting angel. He snuck a look out of the corner of his eye for just a fraction of a second. This was just crazy. He was in bed with her, him, well...there was just no name for it. It felt right. It was the vessel. He was hot for the vessel. That was alright. No, no it wasn't.

He paused and looked again. The look turned into a mutual stare. He looked away first.

"We need to find that angel, do you think you can search for it Cas?" Sam asked.

"Don't... call her that." Dean snapped.

"But, what...OK, well...what should I call her?" Sam asked.

Cas swooshed out of the room.

"She didn't do anything wrong Dean, cut her some slack. She is emotional enough as it is." Sam said.

"Cas doesn't get emotional. Not the Cas I am used to. I want out of here, lets just get this done." Dean said standing up.

"Oh my God, you don't know do you?" Sam said, following his brother out of the coffee shop.

"Know what, that this whole thing is fucked? That my best friend is now the chick in my bed? I think I know enough. Keep your revelations to yourself." Dean mumbled.

White room, white room, white room, Dean chanted in his head.

"She is pregnant Dean."

Dean stopped and felt the blood leave him. He was sure his face was going to meet the pavement. He grabbed a light post for support and waited to hear it again. He couldn't ask. He must have heard wrong.

"Dean, your wife is pregnant. Stop acting like an ass." Sam insisted.

The words wife and pregnant swirled around in his head. He looked down at his left hand and saw the platinum woven band on his ring finger. Vague memories of a cliff and wind and a priest flashed through his mind. Shit. It was true.


	8. Chapter 8

Dean propped himself against the lamp post. He didn't feel the chill in the wind, he didnt see his breath freeze in the air. He spun the ring absently on his left hand and looked into his brother's concerned face.

"This isn't real. This can't be real. I would never bring a child into this messed up world. Certainly not with CAS!" Dean mused.

"He cant get out of his own damned way half the time. The last thing I saw him do was demolish a damned antique shop. As if anyone could trust him with a kid. He is a good guy don't get me wrong, but he ..."

"SHE is the best thing that ever happened to you Dean. The baby is just a bonus. You wanted it. She dragged you out of hell for God's sake and you dragged her out of purgatory. You have been joined at the hip for four years! You need to get yourself together and just work through this until your memory straightens out or you get pulled back to your damned white room. Have you considered that the other memories are false and this is real? No? Well you are here now. Get over yourself. None if this is her fault. I can't believe you!"

"You sound like YOU are in love with her!" Dean yelled back.

"And YOU sound jealous." Sam spat back.

Dean watched Sam storm away. He headed to the Impala. He was going to stop this once and for all. The key started the car with a heavy thrum and he peeled out of the parking lot to find that angel statue. It all started with that.

He stormed into the room and saw Castiel standing with the statue in her hand. She looked up at Dean with crystal blue eyes and paused. She studied him with caution before gripping the statue with all her strength. Dean saw her intention before she acted. He was in agreement.

"This can not continue. I'm sorry Dean. I hope you find your path, and I hope my Dean finds ours." She said before crushing the statue to powder.

In a flash Dean saw the future in this timeline. The birth of his son, his future children, years of companionship and love, a home, a family. Hunting. Sam's path mirrored his own. They did not die in a blaze of glory in a vain attempt to save the world. They lived to be crusty old men who touted ridiculous stories about ghosts and demons, angels and dragons. He saw Grandchildren, Christmas trees, weddings and funerals.

He took his last breath looking into his wife's eyes before he was hurled back to the sterile white chair.

He was done. He tried to calm his fiercely beating heart. The vision of his mother strode over to him and squatted down next to his chair. She waited.

Dean looked up at her. "Are we done here?" He said angrily.

"Dean. This was your life. All of these were paths not chosen. I am going to give you that choice..."

"Screw choice. Since when have I ever had a choice? You people have been spitting the word _DESTINY_ at me for years. Put me back in my life and go screw yourself who ever you are. I played your game and its done." Dean said.

O0o0o0o0o

"Where the HELL is Cas?" Dean spat at Sam.

"Where the hell have you been? We have been searching for you for three damned days!" Sam yelled.

"CAS!" Dean yelled.

Castiel materialized inches from Dean's left arm. Dean's eyes widened and he punched the intruder squarely in the jaw. Cas reared back slightly and Dean nursed his injured hand under his arm pit before scrambling back.

"What the hell are you doing?" Sam asked Dean, confused.

"I heard you call. We were searching for you." Cas explained.

"What the hell? Who the hell are you?" Dean spat at the trench coated man.

"Dean, that is Castiel...you just called to him." Sam said slowly. "Maybe you should sit down."

"The hell it is!" Dean said. "Where is my wife damn it!", Dean took in the man in a glance. There were some similarities. The coloring, the slight build. Those eyes...oh no.

"Cas?" Dean said more quietly. "Are you in there?" Dean said, closely looking over Castiel.

Cas cocked his head to the left and stared at Dean in confusion. Dean knew that gesture.

"Oh God, its true. Get out of there! Where is your...usual, hell where is the baby? What the hell is going on here?" Dean said beginning to pace.

"I am unaware of any missing child Dean. Perhaps Sam is correct and you should sit." Cas said taking Dean's arm. Dean pulled away and spun back on the man.

"I have been tossed all over the planet and THIS is what I come back to? My wife is in a DUDE?" Dean demanded. Where is your vessel? Is the baby OK? Wait...white room I need to get back to the white room. This is some kind of sick joke right? Bastards."

"Dean, I am really confused. Are you saying that Cas is your...well. You aren't saying that you are married to Castiel are you?" Sam said. Dean looked at him with venom in his eyes. "I guess you are saying that. I...well...that's..." Sam continued to search for words until he burst into laughter.

"I fail to see the amusement in this situation Sam." Cas stated.

"This all started with that damned angel statue. Where the hell is my back pack?" Dean said, rifling through it in a fury. He pulled the statue out and tossed it onto the floor before aiming his handgun at it and blowing it into a million pieces.

In less than a second Dean was gone. Cas and Sam peered at each other over the spot where Dean had stood.

"Now what?" Sam said. Cas just shrugged.


End file.
